


My Chest Explodes in You

by meditationsinemergencies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Oral Sex, Pansy Is Antagonizing, Post-War, Rare Pairings, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 13:48:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22717012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meditationsinemergencies/pseuds/meditationsinemergencies
Summary: Pansy and Neville, back for the 8th year at Hogwarts, share a bathroom. Pansy's favorite hobby has become walking in on Neville while he's showering
Relationships: Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 12
Kudos: 123
Collections: Pen15 Challenge 10: New Year New Me





	My Chest Explodes in You

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [adavison](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adavison/profile) for betaing!
> 
> This fic was written for Pen15 Challenge: New Year New Me.

Neville didn’t know when exactly she came into the common room. He’d been sitting at the same table for several hours now doing school work and studying. As it were, people came in and out constantly, and so he never kept track of who was coming in or going out. It was a relief that he didn’t have to be so on guard this year, that, now that the war had ended, he wasn’t constantly worried about what might happen when someone left the common room. He used to find studying around everyone to be distracting before the war, but, now, he found it easier to concentrate when there was the noise from conversations, laughter, chess pieces being broken apart, and so on. 

His attention was pulled away from his studies when  _ she _ sat next to him at the table. She sat on the edge of the chair and her knees pressed into his right thigh, startling him. He looked immediately over to her before clearing his throat and let out a timid, "Pansy?" before adjusting his legs just so that her knees were no longer touching him. 

—

Since the reconstruction of Hogwarts, there was a new area built specifically for those returning for their eighth year. There weren't enough students from each house to create new quarters within each of the living areas. Plus, the board responsible for rebuilding and redesigning the school thought this could serve as a way to see how effective student life may be without the housing system in place. It was an imperfect trial - considering all the eighth year students were previously sorted and still remained quite loyal to their respective houses - but it would have to do. Overall, it seemed to be working quite nicely. As all the eighth year students were adults, they'd designed this area so that while they shared a common room, they each had their own private bedroom with a Jack-and-Jill style bathroom that they shared with another room. The students' rooms were randomly assigned to prevent all the former Ravenclaws from grouping next to one another and so on. 

It just so happened that Neville Longbottom shared a bathroom with Pansy Parkinson. 

Their relationship as bathroom-mates was normal for about a week. Then, one morning, while Neville was showering, she walked in. She was brazen, and couldn’t care less about personal space. She'd walked into the bathroom knowing he was in the shower - she could hear the water, after all - but she had needed to brush her teeth right then, and she found there was no reason to wait for him to get out of the shower. She didn’t care that he was in the shower, he was after all, just showering; she'd seen a naked man before —  _ big deal _ , she thought,  _ they have penises. _

Neville, however, was horrified when he heard her enter. She didn't say anything to him, but he heard her turn on the tap of the sink. With his hair sudded up from shampoo, he tried to discreetly peer around the shower current. As he did so, he caught her eye in the mirror. She smirked at him as she brushed her teeth and he quickly hid back behind the curtain. He stood unmoving under the warm water. He couldn't shower with her in here; he could barely move knowing she stood a few feet away from him. After what felt like ages, he heard the door click open and then shut again. With a deep breath, he peered around the shower curtain again, relieved to find that she'd left. 

It has been several weeks since that incident and Neville rushed each shower he took — petrified that she'd walk in on him again or worse walk in on him in a state of undress as he stepped into or out of the shower. She had walked in on him seven times since,. Twice she brushed her teeth, on four separate occasions she rummaged through a drawer for something, and most recently she stepped in to tell him that she needed a long soak in the tub, and unless he wanted her to take a bath while he showered then he needed to hurry along. 

This last time was the worst for Neville. He had just gotten into the shower and he not only had to rush but he also has to force his brain to not imagine Pansy in their shared bathtub. Neville knew she took baths, long nightly ones. The bathroom always smelled cool like eucalyptus and spearmint. He quite liked the smell, but he never thought about her being in the tub. It wasn't anything against her. Neville just didn't exist in a world where Pansy Parkinson lavished herself in soaps and scents naked in the room next to him, and so the thought never crossed his mind. 

He had tried to accommodate her schedule. Showering early in the evenings or early in the mornings as to not disturb her. Neville wasn't doing this for any particular reason other than to not cause trouble with Pansy. They hadn't known each other very well in school, but she had taken a fair amount of jabs at him and she could be quite cruel when she wanted to be. Neville wanted to finish out his last year, take his NEWTS, and move onto a career in Herbology. He didn't want to socialize. He didn't want to fight with or for anyone. He just wanted to do what he needed to do to propel his life forward in the direction he wanted. 

Neville had managed to avoid talking to Pansy, and he'd managed to stay out of her way. She, however, kept insisting that he be in her way. Now, here she was sitting next to him with her knees pressed against his thigh. He adjusted his legs so she was no longer touching him and finally, after weeks, spoke to her. 

"Pansy?"

"Hello, Nev. May I call you Nev instead of Neville?" She propped her elbow onto the table and was holding two slender fingers with matte black nails against her temple, her head tilted to the side just so. She smiled widely at him, her dark mauve lipstick flawlessly coating her pouty lips and highlighting her bright straight teeth. Neville noted that everything about her appeared flawless. 

Neville shrugged, "I suppose."

"Hmmmm," she moved her fingers from the temple and tapped them against her lips. " 'I suppose' isn't very affirming, is it? Either you  _ want _ me to call you Nev or you  _ want _ me to call you Neville. You must  _ want _ one or the other. There is no supposing."

Neville sighed and set down his quill. He  _ supposed  _ he'd have to talk to her. 

"I...well, I...I simply mean that I would rather you call me whatever it is you choose to call me...you know within reason."

She raised an eyebrow. "What would be unreasonable?'

He shrugged again, "I don't know." He looked away from her and back down at his textbook and notes, "Frankly, you could probably call me just about anything and I wouldn't let you know if it were something that bothered me."

Pansy laughed, and Neville felt his face warm. 

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. I could call you foul things, and you'd just let me?"

"I suppose…" Pansy rolled her eyes at his word choice again, "I just want to keep the peace. I just want…" he gestured towards the room, "everything to run smoothly."

"Meaning you'll let me walk in on you while you shower as often as I'd like, and you'll never say a word to me about it just to keep the peace." Neville nodded, "Yes."

"Even though I'm disrupting you. Something you've gone out of your way to not do to me."

"Yes."

"Why go out of your way to not disrupt me? Why not yell, ‘Hey! Pansy! I'm showering. Get out!"

"I don't know."

"Does it bother you that I barge in on you?" she asked. Neville shrugged. She let a sly smile play on her lips, "So, do you like it, then?" Neville laughed nervously at this, "Gods, no."

"Then you should tell me to stop."

"It's not a big deal. I'll survive. If you need to brush your teeth or look for a hair clip as I shower, it's not the end of the world. It's nothing to make an issue of." 

"Do you ever just, I don't know, do what you want to do? Without thinking of others?"

"Not usually."

"Why?"

"Because I'd rather those around me be content and happy and comfortable than being those things myself. That matters more." 

Pansy looked at him. He was fidgeting with the edges of the paper on his textbook, looking down at the book. She wasn't the first to admit that Neville was quite handsome. He'd gotten quite tall; he wasn't as fit as Draco Malfoy or Blaise Zabini, but he was broad-shouldered and long-legged. He still oozed his lack of self-confidence, and Pansy couldn't help but like him all the more because of that. 

"Will you do me a favour, then?"

Neville looked at her with slight annoyance but mostly curiosity.

"I suppose."

She snapped her fingers and pointed at him, "Stop saying 'I suppose', dammit. And I want you to answer me. May I call you Nev instead of Neville?"

He let out a long breath and hesitated before answering her, "No." 

Pansy smiled widely at him again. She looked as if she'd just won a game. She leaned toward him, Neville caught a whiff of spearmint, and he became painfully aware of how close she was to him: Her knees were now barely skimming his thigh, her arm almost touching his. 

"See you later, Nev," she said as she stood, gently smacking him on his shoulder before walking away towards her room.

Neville sat back in his chair, running both hands through his hair, and muttering to himself, “You’re an idiot, Neville.” 

—

That evening Neville made his way to his bedroom. The bedrooms they'd provided for them were small but quaint. Neville truly loved his room. He had, of course, enjoyed the time spent sharing with Ron and Harry and Seamus and Dean, but Neville enjoyed his own space and his own time. Other than sharing the bathroom with Pansy, there was no disruption to his day. 

After classes, dinner, and then helping Professor Sprout in the greenhouse, Neville usually was back in his bedroom around 6. Pansy usually took a bath around 8:30, which gave Neville plenty of time to clean up after working in the greenhouse. Tonight, however, at 6:10, he heard the water turn on in the bathroom. Neville cast a charm and checked the time again. Perhaps she was doing something else, he thought. But then the water didn’t stop, and he knew that she was filling up the bathtub. 

He scourgified his hands and clothes as well as he could and left his room to go to the common room. He wasn’t sure what had caused her to change her evening routine; Neville tried not to pay too much attention to her, but he noted that she was very routine-based, very regimented. 

She took a bath every single night around 8:30 and tended to stay in the water for at least forty-five minutes. Once the tub drained, she wouldn’t leave the bathroom for another fifteen minutes. What she did in there, he had no idea; he just knew that the bathroom was off-limits for about two hours each night. 

Tonight, however, after their equally odd conversation, Pansy was in the bath long before normal. 

Neville hung around the common room for as long as he could stand it. He felt that the previous year had aged him a great deal, and he found he could only be social for so long. 

As he entered his room, he saw that the bathroom light was still on and, now, he could hear the faint sound of music. _Seriously?_ _What is she doing?_ Neville felt him getting annoyed, but he was not annoyed or bothered or put-upon enough to do anything about it. 

Neville laid down on his bed and waited for her to get out of the bathroom, but before he knew he'd drifted off to sleep.

—

Pansy waited and waited. She had charmed the water to stay piping hot and she read and studied and even dozed off a time or two. She was certain that by 9:00 Neville would knock and inquire as to what she was doing and why she was taking so long. By 9:45, she drained the tub. 

Drying off and climbing into her own bed, she began trying to understand what she was doing and why she was doing it. Before she fell asleep, she was just on the verge of realizing that perhaps she  _ liked  _ Neville, she wanted to get a reaction out of him; she wanted to see his temper flair just a smidge to see his cheeks flame with frustration instead of embarrassment, to hear his voice growl, to see his body bow-up in defence. She'd seen it once for a split second before he killed Nagini. She saw him as raw and powerful and determined: She wanted to see him again. 

—

Neville woke with a start around at one in the morning. He noted she wasn't in the bathroom, and immediately jumped out of bed to take a shower. 

The next day was Saturday, and so if the shower jarred him awake and left him unable to sleep for several hours, it would be ok. He’d be able to sleep in. 

Pansy stirred when Neville turned on the shower but, overall, it didn’t disturb her. She rolled over in her sleep, and for the first time since term started, Neville wondered was she was doing in her room; he imagined her sleeping, lying on her side with her back towards the wall; he imagined her wearing silk pajamas, a button-down nightshirt and shorts, her skin creamy and almost iridescent in the darkness of her room. Neville smirked as he showered. He imagined that even in her sleep Pansy’s hair stayed neat and tidy in her bob haircut. He had never seen her without makeup on, and he wondered what the colour of her lips were without lipstick, if her eyes sunk into your more without the eyeliner drawing you in. Getting back into bed, he tried to stop thinking about Pansy; he didn’t want to think about Pansy. Thinking about Pansy was pointless and wouldn’t benefit him, and Neville was stoic in his thoughts; he wanted to only think about things that would help him and help others — things that moved him forward, not things that held him in place or moved him back. 

—

Saturday and most of Sunday moved along as usual. He didn’t see Pansy; she didn’t barge in on him; she didn’t take unnecessarily long baths, and Neville was surprised to find that he was disappointed by this. 

Sunday evening, Neville was in the bathroom cleaning up. He was at the sink rubbing his hands with a special salve he and Professor Slughorn concocted; Neville had gotten exceedingly better at potions and enjoyed using the subject to help with herbology issues. The salve had to sit on his hands for several minutes before he washed it off under scalding water. This specific plant would leave your hands burning for hours, even when wearing gloves, and, up until recently, this was just something you dealt with when extracting the jelly-like substance inside of the plant. However, with Slughorn and Neville’s findings, and the help of Professor Sprout, the potion seemed to do the trick. 

  
Neville turned and rested his back against the counter, his hands held out at his sides avoiding touching anything or removing any of the salve. 

He was halfway through the five minute waiting period when Pansy came into the bathroom. She swung the door open so quickly it startled him, and he jumped just a little. A smile played on Pansy’s lips when she noticed his jump. It only took a few steps and she was standing in front of him, wearing black leggings and what looked to Neville like a very soft scoop-necked black shirt. Her feet were bare; her toes painted a deep maroon, she moved her left foot and nudged it between Neville’s feet. He had taken his shoes off, and he was wearing a pair of grey and red striped socks, he could feel that her foot was cool through the material, and unlike the other day, he didn’t jolt himself away from her touch. Instead, Neville thought it a bit ridiculous that a woman so much smaller than him in size and stature could leave him immobilized. He let her foot nudge his feet apart as she wedged her right foot in meeting her left, pushing Neville’s legs apart and she stood somewhat in between them. 

She looked up at him. To him, her face appeared void of expression she didn't look nervous, as he was, she didn't look embarrassed at their proximity, as he was, and she didn't look enthralled by the situation, as he was. He looked down at her. Her eyes were brilliantly green and she looked exhilarated.

She inched closer, now pressed against him ever so slightly. She lifted her hands to his biceps and ran her hands down to his forearms. Before her fingers found the palms of his hands he jerked them up and away from her suddenly. 

"Don't touch my hands!" he quickly exclaimed. 

Pansy stepped back and laughed softly, "That's all I had to do to get a rise out of you? Hold your hand?"

Neville shook his head and held his hands out, "No! I, ack, erm, hold on."

He turned his back towards her and turned on the faucet. He waited for the water to get hot and he continued to stare down at the sink. He knew that if he looked up into the mirror in front of him, he'd see her staring at him, and he wasn't quite ready for whatever was next. When the water was hot enough he rinsed the salve off his hands, dried them, and let out a deep breath. 

Pansy walked up to the counter and hopped up to sit on it. She leaned forward on her palms towards him, "Explain, Nev."

"Please…" he leaned towards her, his expression soft with slight worry. “I'm begging you, don't call me Nev."

"Ohhh. I think I like you begging." 

Neville chose to ignore the comment. "I had a salve on my hands that stops the burning from a plant I was working with earlier. The salve stops the burning if reacting with the plant's enzymes, otherwise, if you touch the salve, without having touched the plant, it'll be so cold it would burn you. I didn't want you to get burnt by it."

His hand was resting on the countertop now, inches from her’s. She reached out, lacing their fingers together and pulled him towards her.

He let her tug on his hand propel him towards her. She opened her legs and he found himself cradled between the warmth of her thighs. Neville had no idea what he was supposed to do with his hands and they fell awkwardly by his side. Pansy wrapped her arms around his neck, and cocked her head to the side, "Do I make you uncomfortable, Nev?"

He sighed, "Pansy. Please. Please don't. Just Neville."

She ran a finger down the length of his neck and then she cupped his face in her hand, caressing his cheek with her thumb. 

Her voice was low and sultry, "Answer me, Nev…" she held onto the "v" for a few seconds and gauged his reaction, "...ville. Do I make you uncomfortable?"

She felt him swallow hard. 

"Yes."

He paused, "and no."

She adjusted herself slightly pushing them closer together. Their faces not far apart. 

"Explain," her command was definite but soft. 

He took another hard swallow, "You make me uncomfortable because…." and before he could help himself he was gushing, his pace quick and his tone higher than normal, "because, you...you do things like walk in on me while I'm showering and it doesn't seem to phase you at all. You intentionally do things that you know bother me. And you're…. look at you! You're  _ you _ ."

Pansy cocked her head to the side just a little, perplexed and intrigued, "What's that supposed to mean?" 

"You know what you look like, Pansy. You're practically perfect. It's intimidating and here you are now sitting here like this. It...yes...it all makes me quite uncomfortable."

"You have kissed a girl, right, Neville?"

"Yes. Of course, but…."

"Who?" she asked. "Why does that…"She interrupted him, "Who?" He stammered a bit, "Hermione and…" Again, she interrupted him, "Granger?"

"Yes. It was our sixth year. It was just silly and stupid, but I liked her so much and she was just so sad and she felt like no one liked her, but I did and …"

"Hmmm. Who else?"

"Hannah Abbott. That's it."

"The Hufflepuff?"

"There's nothing wrong with Huffl…."

Again, she cut him off, irritated with his assumption. "I didn't say there was. Calm down. I was just clarifying who she was. When was this?"

"The year of the war and the summer following. We broke up before term." 

"Did you two…" He cut her off this time, "Yes. Not that it's any of your business."

"Well, no. But Hermione is pretty and Hannah is  _ quite  _ stunning. She has gorgeous blonde hair and she's so nice, so I just don't understand why I make you so uncomfortable. You've been with attractive women."

"Yes. Well, both Hermione and Hannah were less … intense. They're calm. Sweet. Comforting…. No offense."

"None taken. You said yes and no to me making you uncomfortable, so what's the no?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do."

"This," he gestured between them, "feels comfortable. You are near me. Even in the next room over. Knowing you're there. You, in certain ways, feel comfortable." He tried to pull away from her, as if ashamed of his admittance.

"Good," and she pulled him back into her. She rested her hands on his chest, leaned forward, and pressed her lips to his. 

Even though part of Neville's brain knew it was going to happen, he still wasn't prepared for it when it did. Her lips were cool and full against his which were warm and soft. He felt sloppy against her mouth — the way her lips fell apart against his and then sucked in his bottom lip; the way her tongue slid effortlessly into his mouth and ran against his own; the way her teeth nipped him. Neville had never been confident, and he certainly wasn't now. 

She pulled away from him, and he knew, just knew that she was going to slide off of the cabinet and slink back into her room to pretend this never happened. 

"Neville," she bit her lip and patted his chest lightly with her right hand. 

He raised his eyebrows in question at her. 

"Stop. Thinking."

"I can't just…"

"Yes. You can. Look at you. You're handsome. You're strong. You're a man. Don't think about what I'm doing or about what you're doing. Just relax and react."

"I'm not good at this stuff."

"Did someone say so? Did perfect Hermione or sweet Hannah tell you so? Did they critique you?"

"No. I just…"

"You just doubt yourself, but, lucky for you, here I am. And I'm sitting here with you between my legs for a reason."

"I suppose."

Pansy rolled her eyes. 

"Would you rather me go back to my room?"

Neville shook his head ‘no’. 

She leaned forward her mouth close to his, her eyes searching his, and she whispered against his lips, "Then fucking kiss me." 

Neville felt a tingle deep in his belly that rose up to his chest and arms. He grabbed onto her waist, tugging her towards him — his fingers twisting in the fabric of her shirt, and he kissed her.

By the time they made their way to his room, Neville had used up all his confidence in that kiss. Pansy pushed him down onto his bed, took him in her mouth until it was evident he was on the brink of coming, and then crawled up his body. 

With her knees resting by his head, she could tell he'd lost his nerve and his confidence. He was gazing at her like she wasn't real like she was but an apparition above him. She also knew that he would be good at this; she knew he was a pleaser and was eager to prove himself even if he was subtle about it. She just needed to show him what he was capable of. 

With her lace panties on, she pressed her heat against his lips. He could feel the coarseness of the lace and the wetness of her soaking through it and onto his lips. Without thinking he licked his upper lip where she'd ground against him. His hands found her hips and he rested them there. He didn't push her down onto him or away from him, as he didn't have a clue what was coming next. She looked down at him as she slipped her fingers into her panties and she began to rub her clit. Neville groaned as she began to touch herself. He could smell her and he could taste her, and, as she slowly ground her hips against his face her arousal smearing against his lips and chin, he desperately wanted to take her in his mouth. 

She knew he would become overwhelmed with her, that he would get to a point where his brain stopped thinking and worrying and he would just act; as she worked herself into an orgasm she felt coolness of air as he magicked away her panties, and he ran his tongue flat and thick against her aching slit, slipping his tongue into her, pushing her hips down onto his face. 

Completely losing himself in her, Neville found himself void of thought until the rocking of her hips slowed and he felt the muscles of her inner thighs twitch. He heard her cry out, and her palm slap the wall the bed was pushed against, and he then moved his mouth to the inside of her thighs and then to her hip bone, as he began to prop himself up and move her off of him, kissing her body as he adjusted their bodies — him now on top of her. Her hands explored his chest, shoulders, and arms. 

She smiled devilishly at him and said with a smirk, "I'd like you to make me come again."

He swallowed hard. She was amazed at how his confidence ebbed and flowed. Once he was pulled out of the moment, he was back to being unsure of himself. 

Neville got up off of her and walked over to several shelves lined with plants. 

She rolled onto her side, "I mean if you insist on using a plant, I'd like it if you asked me what I was interested in first."

To her surprise, he laughed. She felt a surge of joy at having made Neville sincerely laugh. 

He picked off two leaves of what looked like a mint plant. He popped one into his mouth and handed her one.

He was mid-chew, "Chewwit up 'n swallow."

She raised an eyebrow at him as she lifted it to her lips.

"It's a contraceptive plant. Works on both of us. But might as well double up, eh?"

Pansy made a mental note to compliment him on this later, but she was too eager for him.

The plant did taste of mint, and it lingered in her mouth and his as they kissed. Neville rocked into her, her legs wrapped around his waist. 

Later that night, lying in Neville's bed, Pansy was gingerly touching the leaves of one of his plants.

"What's this one for?"

"It helps you sleep."

"How?"

"If you listen, it hums. It's like a lullaby.” 

"Who knew plants could be so fascinating?"

"They truly are."

She rolled onto her side and towards him. She felt herself growing relaxed and comforted by his plants, his warm bed, and him.

"Pansy?"

She opened her eyes, "Neville."

"Why are you doing this?"

She felt much more awake now and propped herself up on her elbow, "I watched you all the time 7th year. I saw you take care of the younger students. I saw you fighting for what members of my family played a role in. I found myself obsessed with you. I was so annoyed with you — for being so strong, for being so good. And then we ended up sharing this bathroom, and I couldn't stop thinking about you. I didn't realize what it was. I just thought about you. I saw how, after everything, you still seemed so unsure of yourself, and that bothered me. Why? You are  _ so _ good. And the only way I knew how to get closer to you was the mess with you, try to get a rise out of you, and then I realized that I liked you. I wanted to be near you. I was barging in on you because it gave me an excuse to be near you. I just want to be near you. You make me feel safe."

She stopped talking and shut her eyes again. He stared at her for a while before pulling her into his arms and letting his plants lull them into safe slumber.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
